


Bitten

by Mothmania



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24061021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothmania/pseuds/Mothmania
Summary: While on a walk with House through the forests of Hogwarts, Wilson finds himself at the mercy of a werewolf and is bitten. House must now do all that he can to keep Wilson from feeling like a monster.(Also they’re both seventeen for some reason and let’s just pretend Hogwarts has that high a grade level or like its “college Hogwarts” or something.Why did I make this? Same reason you’re about to read it: just because.
Relationships: Gregory House/ James Wilson, Hilson - Relationship, house/wilson
Kudos: 9





	Bitten

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multi-chapter fic so yeah...I know chapter one isn’t great but I promise it will get better. Also any criticism or advice would really be appreciated...
> 
> Enjoy!

Wilson had been in the nurse’s ward for over two hours now.

Gregory House, a 17 year old Slytherin, sat on the bench outside the wing, rubbing his leg and counting the seconds. 

House had experienced an attack similar to Wilson’s when he was just a child. He could recall, vividly, the werewolf’s fangs opening widely around his head before snapping shut at the piercing of a silver bullet to it’s neck. He could remember the gash on his leg the monster left. It was hard to ignore what became such a constant struggle in his life. A scar that was cursed to never fully heal...an everlasting reminder of his poor decisions. 

He’d been told to be grateful he hadn’t been bitten, but sometimes House couldn’t help but wish he’d been killed. Now, all he was left with was a mangled leg that’s aching never seemed to dull, and an addiction which left him chained to a bottle of pills. 

The attack he’d seen tonight however, was anything but like his own. 

House closed his eyes, trying to ignore the visions of the monster’s teeth around Wilson’s shoulder. 

The beast had shown up without warning. What started as a peaceful stroll on one of Wilson and House’s nightly strolls though the forest soon became a blood bath. House immediately ran when the monster appeared, but his friend was much to confident in his own abilities to flee.

Wilson had been training to become a Caretaker of Magical Creature since House could remember. 

You shouldn’t have let him get that far. House thought to himself. You knew he cared too much. You should have stopped him.

House hadn’t even tried to fight. Even with his leg, he’d managed to take off running. His lungs were aching from the pain, but he still managed to call for help. He assumed Wilson had followed behind him but within moments he realized that wasn’t the case. By the time he ran back, Wilson was still holding his ground to the monster. His wand was aglow with a simple lumos as he stared the beast down. 

“Hey there big fella. I’m not gonna hurt you.” Wilson cooed in a shockingly calm voice.

House stood fearfully behind his friend, shouting his name to follow him back to the castle.

“Wilson run!” He had screamed, pointing his wand at the wolf, who snarled like the bloodthirsty monster it was. 

Wilson hadn’t even turned around. He simply assured House he’d be fine and took a step forward.

By then, House had realized there was no use trying to get Wilson to listen. He was a Hufflepuff for a reason and would rather die a fool then raise a hand to an “innocent” creature. 

“Expulso!” House screamed as a blast of red light hit the monster’s core. 

Wilson shielded his eyes, but the wolf barely flinched. Instead, it leapt forward and pinned Wilson down before sinking it’s fang’s into the wizard’s flesh. 

House closed his eyes again. 

Those screams had been the most terrifying thing he’d ever heard. House tried another spell, but to no avail. The creature sat up and howled at House with a deepened roar.

House continued his attack, this time using every spell he could remember pleading that one of them would be enough. 

The monster did not stir and the sound of Wilson’s screams were only masked by the roar of someone behind them.

Their defense against the dark arts professor arrived, delivering a final blow to the creature’s stomach, sending it to the floor. 

House didn’t hesitate before dashing for his wounded friend.

Everything after that was a blur. He vaguely remembered running to the nurses wing, but couldn’t recall a single turn they’d taken. All he could think about was the friend in his teacher’s arms and the blood dripping down his sleeves. 

Somehow in the midst of the event, House’s leg hadn’t decided to react as harshly to the immense pain it was in, but now? On the seat of the bench House felt like his leg had been torn apart and gutted. 

He hadn’t taken any pills to the forest and he didn’t dare go in to ask a nurse for something. There was no chance he’d risk distracting them from his friend’s health for even one second. Instead, he continued massaging it whist lying to himself that it would soon feel better. 

Suddenly, the door beside him creaked open and out stepped his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

He looked rattled. His brown coat was stained with blood and his black hair was slick with sweat and frustration.

Upon stepping out, the teacher noticed House sitting on the bench. House immediately stood up, once again putting weight on his leg. He pursed his lips in an attempt to not make any noise of discomfort.

“Professor Nockwood?” House asked, “is he ok? Was he bitten?” 

His teacher stared at him with a woeful gaze before stepping forward and putting his uncomfortable hands on House’s shoulders.

“Greg I need you to listen to me” he said looking at him with a careful stare.

House had never liked being called by his first name. There was something much too personal about it...much too friendly. The only person he didn’t really mind it from was Wilson, and even he did it sparingly. Now, hearing his teacher say it while his friend was dying in the next room made it all the more awful.

“Wilson is in a lot of pain right now,” the professor continued, “I don’t think you’re going to want to see him yet.”

House pushed the Professor’s arms off his shoulders and looked him in the eyes.

“I’m seeing him.” House ordered, “was he bitten?” 

Just then, the door opened again and a nurse with soft blonde curls stepped out. 

“Gregory?” She asked with a concerned inflection, “Wilson can see you now if you’d like.”

House turned away from the professor and   
stepped into the hospital wing. He could almost taste the disappointment of his teacher as the door closed behind him. 

The wing was empty with the exception of a few nurses standing idly around the room with worried looks on their faces. 

House swallowed and began making his way towards the bed, his cane clicked quietly against the marble floor.

As House approached, his stomach   
turned at the shock of his friend’s condition. 

From the corner of Wilson’s shoulder blade down his chest he was patched with thick white bandages underneath a bed half soaked in crimson red. 

As House quickly gripped the handlebars of the bed, Wilson turned to look at him. 

“Hey.” Wilson croaked with a melancholy grin. His eyes were reddish and puffy from crying and his quivering lip told him it’s wouldn’t be long until he started again. 

House couldn’t react. His whole world was spinning as he felt more and more light headed. Wilson stared at him with those beautiful brown eyes of his, pleading for an ounce of comfort.

“James...” House managed, breathlessly. 

He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“They...they said that...” Wilson started, suddenly choking up on his own words. The effort it had taken him just to smile had vanished and he turned his head as tears started to form in his eyes. There was nothing more House wanted to do but to wipe them...but he could do nothing but stare.   
“They said that I’ve been bitten...”

Wilson didn’t need to say more. They both knew what it meant, but neither could bring themselves to say it. 

Within seconds, Wilson started shaking. His eyes closed as he leaned forward to cry into his fists. 

Before he knew what he was doing, House leaded forward and embraced Wilson. He clung to his friend tightly across the back avoiding the swollen areas just as Wilson often avoided touching House’s leg whenever they were close. Without hesitation, Wilson hugged him back as his whimpering soon turned into violent sobbing. 

They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Every so often, House would whisper something like “I’m sorry” and Wilson would reply with something like “it’s okay” or “it’s not your fault. By then, House could barely tell who was comforting who. 

Despite the pain he felt, House never let himself cry. It wasn’t for fear of looking vulnerable, but rather the fact that he couldn’t stand to make Wilson feel more hopeless then he already did. 

After a while, the two finally separated which left House feeling colder than he did outside. Rather then continue to stand on his aching leg, House found himself a place at the bed next to Wilson’s.

“Are you sure that you...contracted it?” House asked after a few minutes of silence, “I mean there’s always a chance-“

Wilson shook his head.

“House this wasn’t a scratch...I was bitten.” Wilson argued, “now I’ve got it...I can’t do anything about that.”

Wilson sniffled slightly, but he kept his composer. He was beginning to look more and more like his own self already. 

Later, the nurse came back in with a clear bottle of golden liquid with a few leaves piled at the bottom. 

“This should help with the pain.” She told Wilson, pouring him a small cap of the bubbling medicine. 

House noticed that she avoided Wilson’s eyes when she was speaking. He wondered whether if it was out of fear or pity. He also realized that since he was sitting on the bed next to Wilson, the nurse probably expected that they’d both sleep there even if House wasn’t allowed to. No good person could tell someone to leave their freshly maimed friend alone in a hospital wing. 

The nurse closed the bottle and handed it to Wilson.

“Now this is very strong so only take an extra dose if you really need it alright?” She told him. 

Wilson nodded and thanked her.

As she left the room Wilson downed the drink in one gulp before immediately passing the rest to House. 

House gingerly took a swig from the bottle and placed it onto the table between them. 

A “thank you” would have been necessary for most, but this was more of a reflex for the two of them. Helping House with his pain had been the only reason Wilson had been sent to share a dorm with him in the first place. Then again, Wilson hadn’t known House very well when he’d first volunteered. But now they where stuck together, keeping up old habits even at the worst of times.

It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before Wilson was snoring softly beside him. It was a comforting sound to hear at the least, even if it meant House would likely have to cradle him as soon as he woke up the next morning. 

House shut his eyes.

Then you better get your beauty sleep. He thought to himself before turning his covers and drifting off.


End file.
